


Moonlight and Dust

by Bitterblue



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1895379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitterblue/pseuds/Bitterblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow-up piece to The Republic of Heaven. Lyra on the genesis of daemons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight and Dust

She is the flit of moonlight on the curtains, the faintest tracings of starshine on his cheeks. Lyra is quiet, at night, quiet and calm and more maternal than she ever expected; part of her thinks she could watch her  _become_ , coalesce into solidity, if she just waits. So she waits, patient.

He had been born without a daemon. No one else had seemed concerned about this, which had made Lyra embarrassed to ask. As the midwife meant to go, just Lyra and her son sleeping at her breast left in the room, she called her back.

"He doesn't have a daemon." Worry. Fear. Apprehension. Did her son not belong in this world? Was he meant to be elsewhere, through some unopenable window?

But the midwife had smiled, and chuckled. "Never been around babies much, have you? They grow their own. She'll come in a few weeks, probably a baby form herself. Puppies, often. Don't you worry."

So she waits, and tries not to watch. It seems rude to watch her pull herself together, assemble herself from Dust and starlight and the shape of his first smile.

There is a soft noise at the crib, a month to the day since his birth, when Lyra comes by his room for her nightly vigil of reading by moonlight and savouring the peace with her son. She isn't surprised to find a blurry, indistinct, soft shape curling its way under his arm. Slowly, it shifts, clarifying into a kitten, a tiny tabby thing. Only half thinking, she reaches down and pets the kitten's nose. The kitten lets out a sleepy mew.

"And do you have a name, or are we going to call you Kitten?"

The kitten blinks at her, and Lyra half-guesses what she's going to say before she speaks. "Kira." She moves a little, and she is still made of starshine and moonlight, her fur glinting in light-dark stripes. Lyra's heart swells with something that feels like it might break her, but it doesn't, and she smiles.

"Goodnight, then, Kira," she whispers. "Goodnight, Will. Sleep well, my loves. Sleep well."


End file.
